


On the road again...

by Redlionfish



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Major Character Injury, Sexual Tension, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redlionfish/pseuds/Redlionfish
Summary: Red and Liz are on the run. Bouncing from safe house to safe house, Liz slowly learns how important Red is to her.





	1. Chapter 1

They had been on the run for weeks, relentlessly chased by the Cabal as well as Ressler, stuck in an old green land rover. Liz felt her nerves unraveling, one by one, and Red's over-protective tendencies were beginning to really piss her off. She couldn't even pee without him hovering around the door. They had slept in the land rover for the last three nights and she was on the brink of insanity. Elizabeth finally attempted to convince Red to stop at a dirty little motel on the side of the interstate somewhere in the middle of Texas.   
"Red I need a shower. I’m exhausted!", she huffed.  
No response.   
"Raymond!" She spat it at him, her voice raising involuntarily. She could not believe how difficult this man could be!  
His eyes snapped over to her at the mention of his proper name and he let out an annoyed sigh before pursing his lips. He turned the wheel of the car quickly to catch the exit in time.  
"Fine, one night. Lizzie, we really must get through this disgusting state. We are already behind schedule..." He lectured her, shaking his head slightly. She let out a relieved sigh.  
He turned sharply into the driveway of the poorly kept motel, the tires moving through the dirt lot kicking up dust that billowed up around the vehicle. Liz was not excited about this place in particular but it should have hot water and a bed. At this point in her life she was not expecting those to be the only things she required to stay the night somewhere, but she also was not expecting to be a fugitive on the lam either.  
She was already opening the door before the car even came to a complete stop. She felt like she was suffocating. She slipped slightly in the gravel, catching herself on the car. She stopped and took a deep breath and took a slow look around, attempting to ground herself. The feel of her weapon in the holster under her jacket, the silence of the parking lot, the feeling of being relatively alone and anonymous. These were things she could hold onto.   
With a brief glance in her direction, he spun and walked toward the office to see about a room. Liz stood patiently at the curb with her backpack at her feet. The fresh air felt good on her face, and if she closed her eyes a moment she could almost pretend she wasn't in the middle of Texas. West Texas no less.  
Red's approach broke her from her reverie, his stride so familiar now she would recognize it anywhere.  
With a little huff of annoyance he held up an old fashioned metal room key. "Dear god, it's actually a key, Elizabeth." He grumbled and moved past her. Shaking his head, he put the key in the door and pushed it open. The door swung onto a small, dark room with two twin beds. Two equally painful hotel paintings hung over the beds, one slightly crooked. At the back of the room was a sink with a single roll of toilet paper and two of the smallest bars of soap she had ever seen.  
She moved inside after him and switched the door hanger to the outside reading, “Do Not Disturb” before closing and locking it. Temporarily plunged into darkness, she felt for the light switch and turned it on. The room smelled of stale sweat and cheap air freshener but it was glorious. The first thing she did was drop her bag on the ground and flop backwards on the bed, knocking the air out of her lungs.  
"This might be the hardest mattress I have ever felt, but it's wonderful." , she smiled and opened her eyes to find Red staring down at her, a slight crooked smile on his lips. He removed his slightly dusty fedora and tossed it on what was supposed to be a dresser...or maybe a TV stand? He turned his back to the other bed and falling back onto it.   
"Dear lord..." he grumbled, a wince forming on his face. Several silent moments later his eyes were slowly drooping closed and within minutes he was quietly snoring, his face relaxed and peaceful, mouth lax, slightly open.  
She let her eyes linger on his sleeping form briefly then stood slowly, made sure again that the door was locked. She pulled her things out of her backpack and made her way to the bathroom. She turned the water on and listened to the pipes groan and bang until warm water began to flow into the dirty tub. Liz kicked the door closed and stripped off her dirty, stinking clothes, making a pile behind the bathroom door. She stepped into the shower and let out a low groan. The water felt amazing, running down her back, soothing the sore muscles there. The pressure was a touch too high but she really could not care less. It took two rounds of shampoo before she felt her hair was clean, and by the time she exited the shower, the bathroom was full of steam and her skin was flushed and warm. She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped just out of the bathroom door. It was too humid in the bathroom to properly dry off and actually put clean clothes on.   
She glanced over at Red, finding him still sleeping soundly, one of his arms thrown up above his head casually, creating a lovely landscape of his rib cage and abdomen, the other draped over his waist. She did like to look at him sometimes, his face severe but strangely handsome, her eyes always drawn to his mouth when she thought he wasn’t looking. She wasn't sure what exactly had drawn her to him. It could be his eyes, green and kind, until they turned hard as onyx. Or it could be his mouth, crooked and constantly working, chewing on the inside of his cheek when he was nervous. His body was that of a fifty something year old man, but he wasn't in bad shape. He was solid yet comforting. She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of thoughts of Red's body. She felt a little like a creep watching him sleep but it was a side she was not used to seeing. He never really slept and when he did, they were normally in separate rooms. Always adjacent, but separate.  
Liz twisted her hair up into the towel and slipped on some clean underwear, a large t-shirt and running shorts. She thought of Red constantly trying to convince her to let him buy her new clothes, but these were her things. They brought her comfort, making her feel a little like herself again, and they were perfectly fine. He would shake his head in disbelief, but to his credit he would leave it at that.  
After brushing her teeth and brushing out her damp hair she pulled a scratchy blanket up to cover Red, switched off the lamp and slipped into her own bed, almost immediately falling asleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * *   
Red tossed his head, his brow furrowed and his mouth turned up into a grimace. Flames, blood, screaming. The images of that night flashing through his mind. He knew he was supposed to feel the pain down his body, the skin bubbling and burning on his back. He almost could feel the heat of the fire. Hear the creaking of the house slowly being eaten away by the flames.  
In his mind he couldn't find her. She was hiding, and he desperately was searching through the house. Yelling her name, screaming it. Pleading for her to come out. He couldn't breathe.   
Finally, he yanked open a closet and found her, passed out in the floor. Her little body curled up into the fetal position.  
‘This isn't how it happened’, his mind was warping things. Confusion set in, but he kept moving. He roughly picked her up and cradled her in his arms as he forced his way through the burning furniture and debris. He could see the exit to the back of the house. Keep walking. One, two, three steps. Almost there--  
He shot up in bed, panting, his heart racing. Shivers going up his back, making the damaged muscles there twitch. Frantically looking around the dark room, he made out the shape of the lamp, the faint moonlight coming through the opening in the curtains. The old tortured air conditioner humming away. He saw Elizabeth's form, curled up into a cocoon of blankets. At least he hadn’t woken her. He scrubbed his hands over his face and held them there momentarily.  
He drew in slow even breaths, swearing he could still smell smoke and burning flesh. He stood and started to undo his tie, his fingers shaking. With some effort he was able to undress to his undershirt and pants. He climbed back onto the bed and stared up at the yellowed, water stained ceiling. Normally when he couldn't sleep, he would read, have a glass of scotch and listen to some music. With Elizabeth in the room sleeping, he wouldn't dare do anything to wake her. So he stared into the darkness. Alone with his thoughts and guilt. Eventually he drifted off to a light, patchy sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * *   
It was early in the morning, the sun wasn't even up yet. Liz woke suddenly. Unsure why. A slow chill crawling up her spine. Something was wrong. Her heart racing as a tall shadow moved past the window. Her senses heightened. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She could hear Red's slow even breathing.   
"Raymond?" she whispered.   
His eyes snapped open.   
"What is it, Lizzie?" His voice low, gravelly.   
She motioned toward the window as she eased her firearm out from underneath her pillow. Red slowly got up, pulled his gun from the bedside table and moved deftly around her bed to the curtain, motioning with one hand for her to stay where she was. He leaned to the side, staring out the small opening into the night. There was a drunk wandering through the parking lot, stumbling and catching himself until he came to rest against an old pick up truck.   
Red lowered his weapon and turned to her, "It's okay, Lizzie. Just a drunk." Her breath blew out of her in relief and she scrubbed her hands over her face.  
"I'm sorry...I thought--"  
"Don't apologize. Please, Lizzie." He put his weapon away and sat on the side of her bed, laying his warm, slightly rough hand over hers. He looked tired, weary. She squeezed his hand, “Red?”  
“Hmm?”, he looked up at her, a little smile on his face.  
“Would you...would you sleep in my bed with me?” she immediately became self conscious.   
“I mean, I just...I don’t know if I can sleep by my---”  
He moved and brought his legs up onto the bed, lifting the blanket over both of them. The bed was small, so he turned her around and lay behind her, his right arm wrapped around her waist and his left arm resting under the pillow. He kissed the top of her head gently, laid his cheek against the back of her head and closed his eyes.   
The feel of his warmth pressed against her was soothing, his arm over her waist made her feel safe. They lay like that until morning, warm and secure.


	2. Chapter 2

The highway going into New Orleans was wet and dark. The rain had been spattering the windshield for over an hour and it was making her drowsy. Her right temple resting against the cool glass of the window. The only sounds were the tires on the wet road and the very faint sound of Red’s breathing. Liz thought she would be more excited to finally be getting into civilization. In reality, she was exhausted and numb. Red was silent beside her. She could tell he was tired, though she knew he would never allow her to take over driving. Within an hour they would be at Red's safe house and with any luck, Dembe would have brought groceries and fresh supplies for them. She looked forward to seeing Dembe. On top of the fact that he would have an update for her on Ressler’s movements, he was a calming presence in the storm.   
With that came the flash back of Raymond getting shot. Dembe pulling his limp body toward the car. Blood everywhere. Liz's own screams sounding like they belonged to someone else. She almost lost him...it was so close. She could see his face, slack and pale, blood bubbling from his mouth, his breathing labored...his bloody hand reaching out for her...  
"Lizzie...are you all right?" Red's voice snapping her out of her memory. His face was creased with concern, gently laying his warm calloused hand over hers. She jumped slightly, glancing at him then quickly away.  
"Yes, sorry...just tired.", she lied.  
He knew she was keeping something from him. She could feel his gaze. She stayed quiet, hoping the moment would pass, and it did.  
"Ooh, a Cracker Barrel!" he smiled over at her. "Hungry?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

He didn’t even like Cracker Barrel. It was disgusting, but he knew Liz needed to get out the car, and having something to eat would do good things for her. He couldn’t remember the last time she actually ate. She held her anxiety in her stomach, apparently. He watched her eating her tuna melt with abandon and smiled. He hadn't touched his meal, but would make a show of moving it around the plate whenever she glanced up at him.   
She finished and he paid the bill while she wandered around the little shop at the front of the restaurant. The short cheerful cashier was staring at him and he could see her mind starting to work. He smiled quickly and ducked away before recognition could blossom over her chubby face. He gently grabbed Liz's arm and pulled her toward the exit. "Time to go, sweetheart."   
Red felt the guilt swelling up inside him. It was his fault she had started down this path, and that she was now on the run and couldn't enjoy running her hands over quilts or shopping for "old fashioned" candy or whatever it was they actually sold there. They made it to the car and he quickly pulled out of the parking lot. The safe house was close. Twenty minutes and they would have some relative peace.  
He glanced over at her, the partial moonlight shining on her beautiful features. Her eyes focused on the stormy night sky. She was so lovely it hurt. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her, and instead gripped the steering wheel tightly and pointed them towards safety.

* * * * * * * * * * * *  
Elizabeth woke from a half sleep as they rolled slowly up the long dirt driveway of an old style plantation. The bougainvillea clinging to the faded exterior and the wind moving through the willows gave the home a romantic, yet sad feeling.  
Red pulled the car around the back of the house and brought it to a stop under an old rusted car port. The engine stilled, and for a moment there was silence. Red got out first and came around to open the door for her. As he took her bag from her, she was treated to a reminder of the scent that was uniquely Red, cigar, a woody aftershave and something she could never identify. His hand brushed against her leg as he lifted the bag out of the vehicle, sending a shock through her that made her feel ridiculous, and not just a little like a pre-teen. If he noticed her reaction, he gave no sign and motioned her toward a small carriage house in the back part of the plantation. As she stepped out of the car she looked between Red and the small house.  
"Oh I thought---" she began.  
"A bit too obvious I think. A little much for just the two of us anyway, wouldn’t you agree, Lizzie?" He grinned, tilting his head to the side.  
Sometimes he could look so boyish, and other times absolutely terrifying and ice cold.  
Liz smiled tiredly and followed his lead. She pushed the creaky door open and flipped on the light switch nearby. The room they had stepped into was small and charming. Large overstuffed furniture, faded rugs and distressed wood. It smelled of cedar and jasmine.  
"Red, how do you even manage to find all these...hidey holes?", she mused, lifting a small wooden sculpture of a horse off the mantle.  
"Oh, I know a few rich snowbirds who like to summer somewhere a little less balmy. They made this place as a guest house for the wife’s father, but sadly he passed away a few years ago. So, the place is ours for now." He smiled, set her bag down and swiped his hat off his head. He looked around and spotted the entry into the kitchen, “Ah!”

Like that, he was gone. Busying himself in cabinets and drawers. She could hear his low voice, muttering to himself. He returned with two glasses and a bottle of scotch.  
"My people know how to shop for me, apparently." He grinned slightly and shook his head before easing down onto the large couch. He patted the couch next to him, and she obeyed. She sank into the cushion with a groan of satisfaction.   
"I don't know if I am going to be able to move from this spot..." she muttered, dropping her head back onto the sofa. She could feel his eyes on her. His gaze drifting over her before recovering and pouring himself two fingers of scotch. With a small gesture he offered her a glass, which she declined.  
Elizabeth smiled. She hated admitting to herself that she liked his attention and that she purposefully did things to draw his gaze. Just to see his eyes darken slightly. It wasn't fair to him, she knew, but it was a little bit of evil fun. She knew he felt strongly for her, but she was not sure they were the same kinds of feelings she had...  
They spent the evening drinking and laughing, telling stupid stories before Liz began to drift to sleep. Her mouth turned up in a gentle smile, her eyes drooping closed.  
"Maybe you should go to bed, sweetheart." he murmured to her.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Red gritted his teeth. Sometimes it was actually painful to turn away from her, to not bask in her beauty. Her light, her brightness was not for him. He didn't deserve it. It didn't have any place in his world. She would be devoured and only a husk would remain. It was selfish, but he found himself imagining them together. Partners, lovers. Her hands running over him. Her lips on his. He shook himself out of the fantasy and watched her half stumble into the small bedroom opposite his own. She let her jeans fall on the ground as she walked and fell into bed. He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. He stood, turned out the lamp and quietly locked himself away in his room. Another night of insomnia, cigars and worry.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Elizabeth woke early that morning, well before dawn once again. Her mouth was dry from a long night of talking and laughing. She couldn't ignore it any longer, she needed water. Tossing off the covers she padded out into the hallway, pushing her tangled hair out of her face. As she made her way toward the kitchen, something drew her attention. She could hear voices. No, one voice. Red's. He sounded panicked. Something was wrong. Quietly she moved to his door and slowly turned the handle. As she opened it, she expected to see something awful. Maybe someone had found them. Maybe someone was hurting Red. Her stomach dropped at the thought.  
The door swung open but all she saw was darkness for a few moments before her eyes adjusted. She could see the vague figure of Raymond in his bed. Legs tangled in the sheets, blankets thrown off, his bare chest heaving. He was tossing, moaning. His face was broken out in a sweat and tears were rolling down his face.

She hurried to him, "Raymond! Wake up, Red...just a dream..." She spoke softly, and as soon as she touched him he shot up, grabbing her painfully by the shoulders and pinning her to the nearby bookshelf. His eyes were wild, pupils blown. She had never seen such hatred and fear in his face. “Raymond!”, She sobbed, trying to free herself. She gasped as his hands closed over her throat. He was incredibly strong. She gasped, stars moving into her vision. She kicked out weakly and just like that he came to, dropping her suddenly and stumbling backward apologizing. "Oh god, Lizzie. Please, I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?" He moved to comfort her and she flinched back, terrified, gasping. She could tell her fear of him wounded him deeply. He looked pained, and suddenly so fragile, standing there in his boxers. She hurried out of the room and pulled the door shut behind her. Her thirst forgotten, she ran into her bedroom and slammed the door, leaning against it, her heart pounding.

Morning came quickly. She was embarrassed and did not relish the thought of facing Red that day. She didn't know what to think about the events of the evening, only a few hours behind her. She looked around for clothes, then realized her bag was still in the main room. "Great..." she murmured. Stuck in her underwear and tshirt. One sock on, the other kicked off somewhere. She opened the closet, seeking anything she could wear so she didn’t have to face Red in her panties. She immediately found an old but clean cotton bathrobe. She smiled and pulled it on. It was slightly large for her but it didn't matter. She tied it shut and quietly exited the room. She found Red at the small table, fully dressed in brown slacks, a dark vest and pale yellow shirt, his hat on the table next to him. He was very quiet. He didn't even look up at her as she entered the room, though by the tension suddenly in his form, he knew she was there.

She watched him a moment, worrying the inside of his mouth with his teeth, the muscle in his jaw working. He looked defeated and exhausted, yet still amazingly alluring. He wasn't traditionally handsome. He was older, not slender but not overweight by any means, his blonde hair buzzed short to his scalp. He had the most amazing green eyes that could turn black as soot when he was angry.   
"It's not polite to stare..." he murmured and took a sip of coffee from a delicate tea cup.  
"Sorry..." she answered lamely and sat down opposite him. She wanted to say something, to comfort him, make him feel at ease, but a boundary had been crossed the night before and she wasn't sure what to do.

He finally looked up at her through the brown tinted sunglasses he seemed to favor. Dark smudges stained under his eyes were evidence of his restless night. He pursed his lips before finally speaking. "Elizabeth...I am terribly sorry about what happened last night, I---" he choked off the last part of his sentence, clearing his throat. 

She slowly stood, and moved toward him. For some reason, she was scared. She gently put a hand on the side of his face before running it over his short buzzed hair. She was sure he was going to pull away from her, but he was still, wouldn’t meet her gaze. His face was smooth, but not freshly shaven. He may have looked put together but he hadn’t shaved that morning and his usual swagger was absent. He was keeping up appearances at the moment. After a long moment, his hand came up and patted her elbow as he drew away from her. He wiped his face quickly and stood. 

"I need to go into the city for a while. Dembe will stay with you." He said coldly, his voice low. A single glance at her and he walked out the door, sliding his straw colored fedora onto his head and ducking into the car idling outside. Before she could protest he was gone. She felt so alone then. Tightening the robe around her, she went into the kitchen, poured herself some coffee and returned to the sofa. Lost in her thoughts, she dozed back to sleep, her coffee forgotten on the side table.


	3. Chapter 3

She awoke to the sound of Dembe coming in the front door. He was hauling a large black suitcase which he carefully deposited near the doorway. He smiled at her as she rose to greet him, "Elizabeth, I am happy to see you." He enveloped her in a gentle hug before picking the suitcase back up and setting it in Red's room.  
"Dembe, where is he? Is he alright?" She worried over Red sometimes and Dembe felt for her. He stared down at her, her face drawn in concern, her teeth working gently on a fingernail.  
"I do not know where he is, Elizabeth. I am sorry. He merely told me he had business and that I was to stay here, with you."  
She groaned, "Do you always do what you are told, Dembe?"  
She hadn't meant it to sound as condescending as it did and immediately began to take it back, but was interrupted. "Elizabeth, I do whatever Raymond needs of me. I owe him that much." He locked his dark eyes on her for a moment before heading out the front door to the garden. She was striking out with both of them. Sighing, she scrubbed a hand over her face and went to shower. The small bathroom was clean and orderly. Old, thick towels hung on the wall. Small bottles of wonderfully scented lavender shampoo and soaps waiting for her in the shower. She noted the bottles of soap Red had left behind. He had at least showered that morning. She picked one up and opened it, bringing it to her nose and inhaling. It smelled nice but was only a puzzle piece to his unique scent. A hint of lemongrass.  
She turned on the warm water, and suddenly decided on a bath. She had not had that luxury in a long time. Why not now? Red had abandoned her for the day, so she had the time. She frowned at the thought. She kept seeing Red's face. So angry, scared. That wasn't the Red she knew. Or maybe it was. She had to remind herself that he was indeed a dangerous criminal. It was easy to forget when he was laughing and telling her silly fish stories. Her mind had plenty to busy itself with as the tub filled slowly.  
She removed the robe and hung it on a hook located on the back of the door, then let her clothes pool around her feet. With a sigh of appreciation she slid down into the warm bath. She could feel the muscles in her body slowly relaxing, and with it her mind started to wander. She thought about her friends at the FBI, and her heart hurt. She missed them. She missed Ressler’s disapproving stare, Aram’s sweet innocence and fierce loyalty, and Cooper...her heart sank at the thought of Cooper in trouble because of her was awful. They had become like family to her despite the fact that Ressler was on her trail, intent on bringing her in to face justice. She let her mind leave that alone for now, moving over the last couple of months. She couldn't help but see Red in her memories. It made sense since she had been stuck with him, but she wasn't just thinking in generalities...she was thinking of the way he moved when holding his gun, how he suddenly became as graceful as a great cat. She was thinking of how his eyes would tear down her defenses when he was staring at her, his pure dominance overwhelming her. She thought of the way he always seemed so put together, even when he decided to forego the tie and have his shirt slightly unbuttoned at the throat, under a vest. There was that place on his throat that her eyes drifted to, right under his right ear where the shiny white scar remained after she had stabbed him with a pen. That seemed so long ago..  
She felt her hand move down her body, letting a sigh escape her lips. This was crazy. How could she possibly be thinking this way about Red? About the man who essentially ruined her life. Just before her hand could slide below her naval she heard the front door open, then close. She heard Dembe speaking, and Red's unmistakable timber answering. Suddenly feeling slightly ashamed of herself, she finished washing up and toweled off. Slipping the robe back around her, she went out into the hall. As she moved through the house and peeked her head into the living room, she locked eyes with Red as he turned toward her. His eyes were pleading. He immediately moved toward her, closing the few feet between them in just a moment and wrapped his arms around her. She felt his hand covering the back of her head. "I am so sorry, Lizzie...I--I really hope you can forgive me.", his voice was low and gravelly, and sent a jolt through her that only he could produce. She buried her face in his shoulder murmuring in his ear. "I am the one who should apologize. I shouldn't have barged into your room like that. I was worried that---"  
Suddenly he was gazing into her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. "Thank you, Lizzie...for caring...I--I don't deserve it.", he murmured, barely above a whisper, his head shaking slightly. Her breath was coming quick, her heart pounding in her chest. The scent of Red was hypnotizing. When she closed her eyes she saw tall redwoods, a chilly fog covering a forest floor. She was acutely aware of the robe being the only thing between him and her nakedness.He put a finger under her chin and lifted it, surveying the faint marks around her neck that he had caused. He winced. She opened her eyes, her lips so close to his mouth. For just a moment, a muscle at the corner of his mouth jumped, causing the effect of a slight snarl. Just as she was about to finally close her mouth on his, Dembe cleared his throat. Red stared at her for a few moments, his breath coming in fast quiet pants, his pupils blown wide in excitement. To his credit he kept his composure and turned toward Dembe.  
"Yes, Dembe?" There was an edge to his voice that he fought to keep controlled. Liz couldn't help but smile a little before hurrying back into her room to change.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Red fought to slow his breathing while maintaining his aloof composure. He had nearly lost control, and he couldn't afford to do that. He couldn't do that to Elizabeth. It wouldn't be fair, not to her or to himself. She was vulnerable, stressed, seeking any comfort whether she realized it or not. As much as he wanted it, he knew if they had never had to run, never had to fear for their lives on a daily basis, then she would most certainly never show interest in him.  
He brought his eyes up to meet Dembe's and there was a sadness on his friend's face, mirroring the sadness that no doubt had encompassed Raymond's. "Raymond...it's for you." he held up the cell phone. With a sigh he took it and brought it to his ear.  
"Yes?" ,he snapped.  
"You have to get out of there. Now Raymond.", Mr. Kaplan sounded like she was walking fast.  
"What happened?" He growled.  
"You've been compromised, dear. I give you an hour before the FBI gets there." and with that, Kate cut the call off. Red snapped the phone shut and tossed it to Dembe. "We're leaving...bring the car around..." he turned back to the hall and knocked loudly on Liz's door. She opened it wide, freshly dressed, her damp hair hanging in her face. She really was lovely...  
"We have to go, Lizzie..." her face fell. He hated having to move her around so much. He knew she longed for her normal life back, bizarre as it was. Longed for just a little while in one place. It broke his heart to do that to her.  
"But...we just got here.", she argued.  
"Plans change, sweetheart. The boy scout knows we are here.", he grumbled, and moved quickly down the hallway and into his own room. He gathered the few things he would take with him, grabbed the black suitcase that no doubt Dembe had brought him with fresh clothes and supplies and made his way to the front door.  
Dembe met him in the main room, taking the suitcase off his hands and disappearing out the door. Raymond took one more look around the little house, adjusted his sunglasses on his face and ducked out the door, Elizabeth reluctantly following behind, her hand resting lightly on her gun.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Three long hours later, they were riding in silence down the interstate. Dembe driving them in silence, glancing at the rear view mirror every so often to check on them. There was a thick tension in the back seat between Red and Liz. So many things remaining unaddressed. So many things she wanted to say to him, ask him. With a small sigh she looked out the window, watching the lines on the highway shoot by. She could feel his presence, feel the sadness or shame that was clinging to him and wished she could say something, anything to ease it.  
"Where are we going?" she quietly asked. Red turned to her, his relaxed composure returning briefly.  
"Miami!" he grinned. " I have an associate who owns an apartment complex there. It just so happens that he recently had an apartment come open. He is willing to let us stay there for a while. It isn't nearly as quaint as the carriage house, but we will be safe there for a while." He pursed his lips and returned his gaze out his own window. Dembe took an exit towards a gas station. Liz didn't know where they were. Her sense of time wasn't the best when mindlessly riding in a car for hours. She could use the bathroom break and a bottle of water if nothing else. The car pulled to a stop and Liz put her baseball cap on and stepped out into the evening air. The place was slightly creepy. It was old, and seemed like a place she would like to get out of quickly. With their frantic flight from the FBI, she was guessing Dembe hadn't had a chance to fuel the car and now it had become critical.  
She leaned back into the car, "Red...do you need anything?", he merely shook his head, smiled so briefly and turned his attention to his phone. She closed the car door and made her way around the building toward the entrance. As she turned the corner she nearly ran right into a group of men standing by the wall. "Oh excuse me, sorry.", she smiled a bit and moved past them, aware of their eyes on her, trying to ignore the comments they were making just a little too loudly They were biker types. A lot of torn denim and chains. A chill went up her spine as she went into the small building. It was old but clean at least. Hauling the giant stick with a small key on the end to the back of the store, she unlocked the bathroom and locked herself in. The bathroom somehow seemed even older. Horrible things carved into the walls and floors. You can't clean that away.  
As she exited the room, she grabbed a water bottle and a granola bar and moved up to the register. One of the men from outside had come in and was talking with the person behind the counter. He glanced once at her, his gaze feeling oily. He looked back at the cashier, then ducked back out the door he had come in. The man at the counter took the key back and took her money silently. Not a word as he shoved the change back into her hands and turned back to stocking cigarettes behind him. She scoffed at the rudeness and pushed her way out the door only to be met by the same group of men she had passed coming in. Attempting to move past them again, they moved to block her path. Her stomach dropped. Three of them...and like an idiot she had left her weapon in the car! Her skin crawled as they grinned at her, walking slowly closer, pushing her back past the door toward the rear of the building. As one of them reached out to grab her, she screamed. "RED!" over and over. A hand fell over her mouth and she was being dragged through the gravel and dust suddenly. She could feel hands on her body, pinching. She could hear laughter. She kicked and scratched and elbowed but their combined strength overpowered her. She was going to be raped...killed maybe...and with Red so close. Did he hear her cries? Did Dembe?  
She dragged her heels in the dirt, trying to put up as much of a fight as she could. As they turned the corner around the back of the building, they stopped suddenly. Liz frantically looked around, but her vision was obscured by the body of the man in front of her. Wood pallets, a dumpster, a few broken down cars.  
Everything was still. She bit the hand of the man holding her only to be shaken hard by one of them. She heard one of them speak but not to her. "What the fuck you want, man? Can’t you see we’re busy here?" Her panic subsided slightly, she looked around for some way to get free. Then she heard his voice, "I suggest you take your hands off of her, then run...fast...”  
She struggled to turn her head, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Red's unmistakable figure. He had his gun casually pointed at the man that was speaking. They didn't seem afraid of him, strangely. She supposed low-lives and street thugs wouldn’t recognize the Concierge of Crime on sight, so he looked like a middle aged man in a nice suit, holding a gun. Not too much of a threat in their eyes.  
They laughed and the man holding her jerked her up and in front of him like a shield. "Is this your bitch?", he laughed. "I think she's mine now, brother. I think it's you who should run!", he cackled. The other two men laughing with him. Red's voice dropped low.  
"I just want you to remember..I warned you.", he nodded absolutely. At that moment one of the men grunted and hit the ground. Dembe had circled behind them. Thank god. Tears were streaming down her face. The man holding her glanced quickly back, hollered at his friend, then pulled his gun from his pocket. She struggled and yelled out, "Gun!" but it was too late. She heard several shots. The third man hit the ground, presumably shot by Raymond, but she noted with a sickening lurch of her stomach that Red had crumpled to his knees, then slumped to the ground. She was suddenly released, thrown to the ground as Dembe wrestled the final assailant and beat him mercilessly, kicking his gun away from him.  
Liz scrambled to her hands and knees and crawled to where Red was lying. "No, Raymond!" she rolled him over on his back, cradling his head in her hands. He was groaning, grasping at his side, blood spreading over the beautiful yellow shirt, and it seemed somehow vulgar that he would be bleeding into his expensive coat and vest. She moved his hands to see the wound. There was so much blood. She ripped his shirt open and found the source. The gasps leaving his mouth were strangled and hoarse. She couldn't tell how serious it was, but she ripped her sweater off and put it over his side, applying pressure causing him to yell out. Dembe was over them suddenly, his face grave. "We have to get him in the car, Elizabeth!"  
Between them they dragged him around the building and into the back seat of the car. Dembe hurried to the drivers seat and Liz crouched over Red in the back of the sedan, straddling his legs. "Please, Raymond. Stay with me..." she pleaded. One hand holding the pressure on his wound, the other on the side of his face. His face was pained, and he finally looked up at her. "Are you okay?" he groaned.  
"Am I okay?! Yes I'm fine, Raymond. Thanks to you..." Dembe was on the phone. She could hear him getting instructions. She assumed from Mr. Kaplan. There was no way they had a magical abandoned warehouse or instant emergency room anywhere near here.  
"Dembe! We need to get him to a hospital!"  
"No!" Red grabbed her hand. "Dembe find us somewhere out of the way please." He gasped. She was screaming at Dembe the whole time to find a hospital but he only took orders from one man. A few moments later, they pulled into what looked like an abandoned trailer park. Dembe screeched to a halt at what looked like the office. Before she knew it, Dembe was hauling Red into the small building. Leaving a trail of blood behind them. She scrambled out after them and ran ahead. The door was locked, but with a swift kick, she had the lock broken and the door swinging free.  
Within moments they had Raymond set down a small cot in the back of the office. She guessed the manager used to sleep here. There was a small stove and mini fridge, long unused. Dembe ran outside and a few seconds later ran back in holding a small black tactical bag. Liz ran her hands over Red's scalp. "You're going to be okay, Raymond." Her voice was shaking. She was terrified and was more trying to convince herself than him.  
"Yes, Lizzie. It will be fine...just...a flesh wound I think." He gasped. Dembe's hands moved fast to remove the sweater and Red's shirt. Liz's eyes were drawn to the wound. Ugly, ragged but far enough up that maybe it hadn't hit any organs. "Raymond, we need to get the bullet out...”.  
“I figured that was going to be on the agenda...” he winced, and grasped her arm with his shaking hand.  
He knew this was going to hurt like a bitch. Red merely nodded at Dembe. He had pulled a pair of forceps out of the bag and without much warning, drove them into the wound. Red's scream tore her soul apart. She brought her face up to his, cradling his face with her hands. "Raymond, look at me..." she was trying to keep him conscious. Dembe looked up at her, his face concealing a fear that she was feeling too. If they didn't get this bullet out and the wound dressed, Red would bleed to death. Dembe went to work again, trying to find the bullet inside the actively bleeding wound. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The pain shooting through him was intense, but he had felt worse. The blood loss on the other hand was making him very cold, dizzy. He brought his eyes up to Liz’s beautiful face, focused on Dembe’s task.  
“Lizzy...” he groaned. She looked down at him, and he could tell by the fear in her eyes they had no idea what had been hit.  
“Hang on, Red...stay with us. Stay with me.” she sniffled. He felt her hand on his head again. Things were going slightly dark and suddenly it seemed like the pain and the urgency was in the background and he was merely observing.  
“You always were so strong, Lizzy...” he smiled weakly. Her face changed and she was wiping at his face. Her hand came up bloody.  
“Dembe!” he heard her scream echo as everything went black.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Something must be hit in there, Dembe! We need to get him to a hospital or he WILL die!” she yelled at the man across from her. His face suddenly looked panicked. She had never seen him look that way before and it didn’t help.  
Suddenly, the door burst open and the room flooded with men with guns. She threw herself over Red’s body. These were not FBI. One of the men came up quickly behind Dembe and hit his head hard with the butt of his rifle. Dembe fell sideways and she was there staring at at least a dozen men with high powered assault rifles...and one Mr. Mattias Solomon.


	4. Chapter 4

The men quickly loaded Red into the back of a van, a medic attending to his wounds, and Dembe and Liz were shoved into the back of a large suburban. She turned to look at one of her captors, but the man grabbed her roughly by the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair and bashed her head into the inside of the door. Everything went black.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Liz woke up, she was in a dark room, full of furniture covered in large white canvas sheets. She was handcuffed behind her back, her feet tied together and her head hurt like a bitch. She squinted, trying to get her eyes to focus, and she caught sight of someone standing outside the door to the room. A guard. Assault rifle, ear piece, staring right at her. His face was stone cold.  
She suddenly couldn’t be strong and resilient anymore. She turned her head away from the man watching her, and allowed the tears to flow down her face. She had almost wished it was the FBI that found them. At least that way, she could finally be done.  
She was left alone for hours, the guard being the only exception and he wasn’t talking. The muscles in her arms were cramped and she couldn’t feel her feet, the rope was so tight. Every so often she would hear people rushing around several rooms down and wondered what they had done with Dembe, and with Red...  
The one comfort was seeing the men and women in scrubs pass the doorway. Maybe they could save him. Maybe he would be okay...but why would they save him? Why not just let him die? She didn’t like any of the answers. What was their plan with her then? What the hell was going on?  
As if in answer, three more guards approached the door and nodded in her direction, speaking low. As one they turned and moved into the room. She fought as they grabbed her arms and dragged her through dark hallways. One of the men opened a set of double doors and she was pulled into a large room which looked like a formal dining room at one point. Everything was dust covered and the lights were all construction lights, wired from generators. She looked around frantically, and found Dembe tied to a rusted metal chair near the dining room table, he was bleeding heavily from his temple. A large part of the room was dark, so the utility of this room remained unclear to her. She was thrown rough into an old dining room chair and tied in.  
She kicked and struggled, but stilled as she saw the lean figure of Solomon strolling into the room from a door near the back of the room. “Solomon! Where’s Reddington?!” she shouted, angry.  
“Well hello Elizabeth!” he smiled widely at her. “Long time no see.”  
“Where is he, Mattias?!” she screamed at him.  
“Oh he’s here. Don’t worry. You’ll be seeing him very, very soon.” he grinned.

She didn’t like the sound of that. Dembe’s head lolled and he came into consciousness. He tested his bonds and looked at her then looked around quickly. Her eyes were trained on Dembe, trying to figure out some way to communicate with him. Solomon was turning on more spot lights around the room, humming happily as he went. His long legs practically dancing around. A light switched on and she saw Dembe’s face fall. Confused, she followed his gaze. Her eyes came to rest on the long wooden dining room table at the other side of the room, which just became illuminated and her heart sank into her stomach.  
There was Raymond. Tied down by his wrists and ankles with thick ropes, and two large leather straps around his chest and hips. He seemed unconscious, or drugged. But he was alive. She saw his chest rising and falling shallowly. “Elizabeth, we are going to play a game. Reddington and I are going to have a...conversation. If you don’t behave he will suffer. He will suffer more than you can ever imagine. Do I make myself.perfectly.clear?” He said the last three words very slowly. She nodded quickly. He smiled brightly again.  
“Good!” he spun on his heel and went over to Raymond. One of the men rolled a large metal cart over to the side that Solomon had come to stand by. There were several vials, bags, syringes and...what could only be described as tools. He busied himself drawing up a cloudy liquid in a syringe and unceremoniously jabbing the syringe into Red’s neck and pushing all the liquid out of the syringe.  
Mattias waited a few moments, checked Red’s pulse then nodded and slapped him gently on the face. “Rise and shine, Mr. Reddington. It’s time to greet the day!”, this bastard was far too cheery all the time. It made her hate him even more. She saw Raymond’s head loll back and forth, and heard him groaning. The angle of his arm was pulling on the wound in his side that they had obviously attended to. Mattias looked up to the man standing near her and made a beckoning motion.   
All at once, the chair she was in was lifted by two large men and pulled close to the table. Her heart was racing. “Raymond...Raymond can you hear---” she was punched in the stomach by one of the thugs.  
“You will speak when I want you to, Agent Keen.” Solomon spoke as casually as ever. His attention then turned back to Reddington. He ran his hand down the table, then lifting to rest right above Raymond’s wound. “I said...” he dug his finger into the bandage, drawing the worst scream she had ever heard from Red. “...wake up!” he growled.  
Red’s eyes were open, rimmed with tears. The whites of his eyes were bright red. It broke her heart to see him trying to regain his cool composure through his fear and confusion.   
“Mattias, what do you want?” his voice was cracked and broken. What had they been doing to him?  
She struggled against her bonds which drew Solomon’s attention immediately.  
“I swear on my mothers grave, if you so much as move, Agent Keen, I will open him up like a fish, then it will be your turn.” His cheerful tone had turned cold and dangerous. She immediately stilled as he turned back to Raymond.  
“I want so many things Reddington. But at this moment, I want some revenge, you see. My employers want you dead, I want you dead, but damnit if I don’t want to make you hurt a bit before the end, Raymond.” he laughed. Mattias strolled up to the head of the table and wiped his bloody hand on what was left of Red’s shirt.   
“Solomon, you can have me, let them go. They are nothing to you. If you wont let them go, turn them into the FBI, collect the reward.”  
“Oh Reddington...you always play the sacrifice. First of all, I don’t need the FBI’s money...nor do I want it. Secondly, Elizabeth and I could have such a good time...”, he grinned and winked at her, making her skin crawl. Red strained against the ropes, “Don’t touch her...”, he was weak, his voice gravelly and wet sounding. His face was paper white. He had lost a lot of blood and his lips were slightly purple.  
Suddenly there was a scalpel in his hand, and he was holding it up to the light, glinting the reflection over Reddington’s eyes, grinning. “Who are you to her, anyway?” Solomon drawled, “I’ve always wondered.” Raymond’s eyes shut down and he gritted his teeth, staying silent. Without warning Solomon brought the scalpel down, slowly pulling it down the side of Red’s face, making him clench his jaw and moan loudly. “Who is she, Raymond?” he cooed, dragging the scalpel down Red’s exposed collar bone. This time, no reaction.   
“Raymond!” she spun on Solomon, “Please don’t hurt him, please...” she couldnt bear to watch him be cut open in front of her. Tears were running down her face. “Oh Elizabeth...we are just beginning...” he laughed and ripped the remainder of Red’s shirt open, displaying his tender abdomen and blood stained dusting of golden chest hair.  
The scalpel came down again, down the center of his chest. Red yelled out, panting. She could see Dembe struggling against his restraints. The man guarding him bashed the side of his head with the rifle once more, dropping him into unconsciousness. At least he wouldn’t have to witness this. Red’s scream brought her attention back. Solomon had buried the scalpel into Red’s thigh and left it there. “Oops, lets hope we didn’t hit that pesky artery.” he grinned and practically skipped over to the cart. He fished around on the bottom shelf and came up with a thick black bar. So simple, yet her heart was thudding against her chest. He came around the other side of the table, running the bar down Red’s chest and arms. He was done talking. He lifted the bar and brought it down hard on Raymond’s ribs. She heard the sickening crunch. All the breath knocked out of him, Red looked like he was about to pass out. Moving around to his head, Mattias put the bar against Red’s neck and casually leaned down, putting all his weight on it. Red strained against the straps on his chest, gasping, then fell limp. He had lost consciousness. Too much blood loss and lack of oxygen.   
Liz cried uncontrollably, feeling so helpless. She sobbed his name over and over, like a mantra. Mattias looked disappointed suddenly as one of his men hurried up behind him, whispering in his ear. He nodded, grinned at Elizabeth, “Be right back sweetheart.” he and most of the men in the room went out through the door they had brought her in through. She took this opportunity, “Raymond! Wake up! Red, talk to me!” she pleaded.   
“Elizabeth...” his voice cracked out. “When they are done with me, give them whatever they want to ensure your safety. If they want money, Dembe can give them my money. Just do--”  
“No!” she shouted at him, “You are not leaving me here!”, she was angry. Angry at herself for not being stronger, angry at him for being so selfish.  
“Anything they want, Elizabeth...your safety is more important.” he sounded exhausted, sad.  
“Im not leaving here without you.” She was crying now. “I wont let them do this to you...”  
“Well, Lizzie, it doesn’t look like you have much of a choice.”  
She heard Solomon returning. Her panic rising in her throat. He had a pistol in his hand and a determined look on his face. “Reddington, I am truly sorry but our...appointment is being cut short.” He put his gun to Red’s temple. “I just want you to know Im going to take really good care of Elizabeth”, he whispered in Red’s ear.  
Red strained again the bonds, the blood flowing freely from his wounds. His anger was wild and terrible. “If you touch her...I swear...”  
Mattias laughed, “Goodbye, Raymond.” His finger moved to the trigger. A shot rang out. Her screamed stopped in her throat as she saw Solomon jerk forward, stumbling against the table. Behind him, Baz and several men came pouring into the room, shooting each guard and watching them fall like so many dominoes. Solomon ducked under the table, and ran out the other side, disappearing through one of the many doorways, clutching his side in agony.  
“Baz!” she sobbed, one of Red’s men cut her bonds and helped her to her feet. She immediately threw herself at the dining table, assessing the damage. He had passed out, he was trembling. “We need to get him some help!” she shrieked at one of the men. As if in response, Mr. Kaplan and three medical personnel pushed open the large double doors and strode directly over to them. Mr. Kaplan looked up at Liz, her eyes rimmed in tears, “Tell me. What are we looking at?”  
“Gun shot wound, right side. Possible internal damage. Several lacerations...blunt trauma to the ribs...but I don’t know what they did to him before we were brought out.”  
Mr. Kaplan nodded, untied the blood saturated ropes and nodded at the medical staff she had brought. “Stabilize him and get him in the van. We are getting out of here.”, her authority was absolute and the staff sprung into action.


	5. Chapter 5

They had finally made it to the Miami safe house. The apartment was large, beautifully furnished and peaceful. Mr. Kaplan and Dembe wouldn’t let her see Raymond for the first several days. He was being kept in a medical coma to give his body time to heal. She understood their reluctance, she saw the look in Mr. Kaplan’s eyes whether she meant to show her or not. She blamed her. She blamed Liz for Red’s situation, and truthfully, Liz blamed herself also. She struggled those first few days, felt Red’s absence like an actual physical pain. She was trying to keep herself busy, reading, sleeping, looking through the files they had been gathering along the way. Building their case against the cabal.  
She decided to wash their clothes and as she opened the boxes of things Dembe gathered together, she found Red’s fedora, straw colored with a brown ribbon around it. It was smattered with blood. She flashed back to the gas station. It had fallen off his head when he was shot. She ran her fingers over the inside band, stained very slightly by sweat and blood. She clutched the hat to her chest briefly before returning it to the box.She gathered the clothes that were worth keeping and took them into the large wash room, dumping them into the large washing machine. It was strange doing something as normal as laundry. She couldnt remember the last time she smelled laundry detergent or heard the relaxing sound of a dryer running.  
She got the load running and walked back out into the large living room. She had run out of acceptable public clothes so she had dressed in a slightly too large white tank top and soft black leggings. As she entered the room, she noted Dembe, sitting in a chair looking out the large glass windows over the city. She hadn’t really had a chance to talk to him since the incident with Solomon. She sat down on the side table near the chair quietly, and put her hand gently over Dembe’s. His eyes met hers and she saw just how tired he was. The guilt washed over her anew, this was her fault.  
“Dembe...I’m really...I’m so sorry. For everything...I know you must blame me.” She whispered, looking down at her feet, unable to look him in the eye. A long silent moment stretched out, and she was sure he was just going to leave it at that, but she felt his warm hand slide over hers, grasping her one hand in between both of his. “Elizabeth...” he began, “It is true this would not have happened had you never met Raymond. It is true that he would be perhaps a little safer for not knowing you, given his disregard for himself in the face of danger to you.” He paused as the hurt passed over her face, then continued, “But that does not mean, it is your fault. I do not blame you. Even if you had never met Raymond, he has a habit of getting himself into trouble without any one person’s help.” He smiled gently, and strangely it actually made her feel better.  
“Can I see him?” she ventured, looking up at him pleadingly. He looked down at her and smiled, “We woke him about an hour ago.” he revealed. She took that as a yes, and jumped up off the table and padded across the living room to the master bedroom. Baz and three other men standing in front of the hallway leading to the bedroom. He stepped aside, gave her a nod as she passed through. Mr. Kaplan sat directly outside the door, typing on her phone. Without looking up at Liz, “Be very careful, Elizabeth. He is not well yet. No matter what he may tell you.” She grumbled as she stood and moved the chair out of the way. Liz reached for the handle but froze. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She felt Mr. Kaplan’s hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right dearie. Go on.” With a gentle pat she moved down the hall toward Baz. Liz let out a deep breath and opened the door. The room was cool, and dark with the exception of a bedside lamp casting a warm orange glow over the bed.  
It was there, sitting up against the headboard that she saw him for the first time in several days. His eyes were closed, dozing. His skin was pink and healthy with the exception of the dark purple smudges under his eyes and on his neck. It made her heart lurch. His cheek had a small bandage over the cut from Solomon’s scalpel. He looked so fragile there, the IV line curling up around his arm and to the liter bag on the IV stand next to him. The oxygen mask covered the lower part of his face, foggy with his breath. She moved over to him quietly and pulled up a chair next to the bed.   
She slipped her hand into his. His hand was warm and rough and lovely. She let out a long sigh, closing her eyes. She dipped her head to rest against the side of the bed. Her body shook with sobs. “Lizzy....” he growled, barely understandable through the oxygen mask. Her head snapped up and she saw him pawing at the mask with a shaky hand. She helped him take it off and set it aside, allowing him to speak. “I’m...so glad you are okay...” his eyes were rimmed in red and his voice was slightly shaky but he seemed a bit like himself again.   
“Raymond...I am so sorry. This is all my fault...”  
He shook his head and squeezed her hand. “This is absolutely not your fault, sweetheart. It’s mine. This is my life, Elizabeth. This is why we must exonerate you and soon...we cannot afford for you to be in danger like this any longer.”  
She knew it was useless to argue with him. She just stared at his face, grateful he was drawing breath and safe. Red stared into her eyes for a long time, emotions rolling over his face. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, Lizzy.” he shook his head for emphasis. “I absolutely could not live with that.”  
She knew where this line of conversation went. They had had it before. “No...you are not leaving me. Raymond, dont you dare leave me!”, she panicked. Staring into his face, she saw a smile spread on his lips.   
“I will never leave you, Lizzy. You have my word...I lo---” he stopped himself, biting the inside of his cheek and looking away. Her heart seemed to stop. She knew what he was saying. It was as if time had just ground to a stop. She half stood, running her hand slowly up his arm. That is when she made her choice.  
She climbed up slowly, one knee on each side of his legs, straddling him. She gently eased herself down into his lap as he protested, “Lizzy, what on earth are you---” he gulped as he felt her body on his. She put her hands on either side of his head on the headboard and leaned forward slowly, giving him his chance to pull away from her. He seemed in a panic almost, and then stilled as she ran her lips slowly over his, closing them on his bottom lip gently before swiping her tongue into his mouth.The groan that escaped his lips shot lightning through her and she found herself pressing down with her body onto his lap. She ran her hand down his chest, careful to avoid his broken ribs, his wound.   
“Am I hurting you?”, she whispered. He choked out a laugh, shaking his head.  
“Lizzy...you don’t have to...” he tried to put his hands on her shoulders, but the attempt was a weak one. He wanted this, and so did she. The guilt in his eyes stopped her. “Raymond...I know what I want. It’s this. I know you do too...unless I am wrong. Do you not want me, Raymond?” she breathed near his ear. He let out a long breath, “You are not wrong, Elizabeth...” he whispered, running his hands down her sides and resting on her hips. He squeezed gently there, pushing slightly up against her body, seeking some kind of relief. It was her turn to moan low in her throat. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She leaned in and took his lips again in hers, he moaned and took a hand from her hip and pulled her head in to deepen the kiss. The noises alone that she was pulling from him were enough to drive her insane. She had almost lost him again. It only served to make her realize just how important he was to her. How much she needed him.  
She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. His pupils blown in lust, much like that day in the carriage house, only this time there was something darker, something more. “Elizabeth, you have to want this. You have to really want this and the consequences that come with it...because once I have you,” he shook his head, “I will not let you go. I will not give you up. I cannot.” his words were fierce and slightly frightening but she loved them.   
She answered him by grinding down hard on his lap, feeling his length hard against her and kissing him deeply. When she broke the kiss she looked him in the eye, “This is all I want, Raymond. You...” she whispered, panting slightly. There was a still moment. He reached across and ripped out his IV, pulling her against his chest, and running his hands down her beautiful body. She scrambled up and tore her shirt off, leaving her only in her jade green lace bra and her leggings. He growled, lifted her slightly and threw off the blankets. His face pained slightly. There was a moment of guilt as she saw just how beaten he was, the extent of what they had done to him. It didn’t seem to faze him, and she tried to be gentle with him.  
He was naked except for a pair of simple black boxer briefs which he was straining painfully against. She gently pushed him back down against the headboard. “You are in no shape for this, Raymond...” she whispered, half serious, half teasing.   
“Don’t even think about it Lizzy. You have to finish what you started. I warned you...” his grin was sly and a little scary. His eyes dark with desire. She smiled down at him. She could feel the heat rushing to her core and a wave of wetness drenching her panties. “Oh god, Raymond...” she used the headboard as leverage and pushed herself down against him again, teasing them both.  
The growl she pulled from him, nearly made her dizzy. “As much fun as this is, sweetheart...”, she didn’t let him finish. She climbed off of his lap, straddling his legs. She ran her hands down his chest, feeling the strength of him, the warmth of him under her hands. She ran her fingers over the V shape of his hips leading down past the band of his underwear. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes as she hooked her fingers under the waistband and pulled slowly.  
He gasped slightly when he was freed from the confines of his underwear. She blushed when she saw him. He was larger than she expected. She looked up to his face again, and leaned down to pull him into her mouth, agonizingly slow. He gripped the blankets near him, letting out a sharp hiss as he was suddenly enveloped in her hot mouth. “Oh Lizzy...”  
She felt his hands tangle in her hair. She moved up and down on him, slowly increasing speed until she felt his fists tighten against her scalp. “Sweetheart, you’re going to need to slow down...” he rasped out. She slowly pulled her head up off of him, letting him drop from her lips. He looked pained at the absence of her mouth but was quickly distracted as she stood up off the bed and slowly pulled her leggings down, letting them drop to the carpet.   
He groaned seeing her matching bra and panties, all jade green lace, contrasting on her milky skin. She climbed back up on him, bringing her lips down for a kiss, when suddenly she heard a knock on the door followed by Mr. Kaplan’s voice, “Raymond! Do you need anything!?”  
He quickly yelled back, “No I’m fine. A few minutes if you would Kate!” His voice was a little sharper than it should have been but he immediately brought his attention back to her. She realized they needed to hurry. She ground down on him, watching him drop his head back against the headboard. He looked back up at her,”I need you...now.”, he growled at her. She nodded, speechless and held onto his shoulders as she reached down between them and literally tore her panties off of her. She felt wonderfully dizzy.  
He was rock hard and ready. Positioning himself at her entrance, he used one hand to guide himself in, and the other covered her mouth as she screamed into it. Once he was seated completely inside her, he took his hand away and replaced it with his mouth, swallowing her moans as she began to move on top of him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He never thought he would ever see this beautiful sight outside of his best dreams. His Lizzy, moving up and down in his lap. Drawing him deep inside of her, her mouth falling open as she moaned. He did his best to keep her quiet. He knew Kate was right outside the door and dear lord she would not approve. “Lizzy...we need to hurry...Im sorry...” she pouted but nodded. Painfully he lowered her down onto her back on the bed, wincing as he moved. He settled himself between her legs and once again covered her mouth with his hand, “So sorry, Lizzy...” he groaned, and entered her once more. She shrieked against his hand. He lifted her hips with one hand and drove himself into her, over and over. Feeling her tighten around him, she was panting against his palm. He quickened the pace, feeling his climax building. Rolling his hips against her, he released her hips and reached down to push his fingers against her clit, sending her screaming over the edge, pulsing around him.   
He couldn’t hold back anymore, pounding into her a few more times, he groaned “Lizzy, I’m going to...” he went to pull out of her, but she quickly wrapped her legs around him and pulled him back into her deeper than before, and he lost it. Biting her shoulder, he yelled as his climax took him. She rode it out with him, cradling him against her chest. He was breathing heavily as she helped him back up to lean against the headboard.   
She helped him back into his boxers and replaced the blankets as they were. She pulled on her leggings quickly and slipped her tank top back on. She dropped into the seat by the bed just in time for Baz to open the door, leading Mr. Kaplan inside. Liz blushed and then smiled politely at Kate as she moved over to Raymond.  
“Wha---your IV has come out, Raymond...” she chided. She slipped on some protective gloves and reinserted his IV like a professional. Her brow furrowed as she looked down and stepped aside. Her high heel had caught on something. Red followed her gaze down to see Liz’s jade lace panties, ripped apart, lying partly under the bed.   
Kate looked up at Red suddenly, her eyes wide. Red looked away innocently and Liz got up. “I’d better go check the laundry.” She hurried out, moving quickly past Baz. “Raymond Reddington......” Kate scolded him.   
“Kate, I can’t think of a single situation where this is any of your business.”, he smiled up at her. She narrowed her eyes, slapped him across the face and huffed out of the room. She left Red there, shocked, and Baz laughing as he too walked out the door, closing it behind him


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later, Red was moving gingerly around the apartment. Liz was still in shock at what had happened. She knew it wouldn’t happen again. Raymond was going to admonish her, tell her it was foolish. He would reject her now. After she had given herself to him. The thought made her ill. He hadn’t spoken much to her, spending most of his time either in bed or sitting moodily in the chair facing the view of the city.  
One morning, several days after he had woken up, she was watching as Mr. Kaplan, Baz and Dembe were all preparing for their departure. They packed up everything they had brought with them, Medical supplies were rolled up into secure packages and carried to the car. Dembe embraced both of them once more, voicing his concerns for their safety, wishing them well. He smiled at Liz briefly and moved out into the hallway, following the rest of the group.  
The door clicked closed and she moved toward the hallway leading to her bedroom. Where did they go from here? How could they possibly go back to how they were before? She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a shaky breath. Suddenly she heard movement behind her and spun just in time to be shoved up against the wall. Red lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and crushing his mouth against hers. She groaned deeply and tightened her grip around him, running her hands down his back, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. He yelled out and spun her around and slammed her against the other wall behind them.  
“I told you Lizzy...I will not...give you up.” he whispered into her ear before grazing his teeth over her ear. They would need to run again, but for now...she was content to spend a little more time in the safety of Red’s arms before facing the reality of her life once more...

 

End


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